Amortentia
by thereichenbachpen
Summary: Hermione and Draco return to school for their Seventh Year of Hogwart's Education after the war. When they are paired together for an assignment, there is more than just potion brewing. A few weeks studying together and a strong batch of Amortenia slowly changes the hatred they once felt for each other into something quite different... but is it love? Or potion-induced obsession?
1. Chapter 1

Bare Feet and Project Proposals

Sweat rolled achingly slow down Draco's temple, but he couldn't spare a movement to bat at it. Instead, he felt it trickle down his neck only to be absorbed into the collar of his robes while he madly tried to keep up with Slughorn's ramblings. Surely, he didn't expect that anyone could actually get everything down, especially in the absolutely sweltering classroom. Most of the other student's had given up by this juncture, but Draco hadn't lifted his quill since the beginning of class time. Potions had always been easy for him and he had truly believed himself talented—that is until Professor Snape no longer filled the position. Slughorn now stood at the front of the class, bragging and rambling, which different (yet not better) than the menacing presence Professor Snape had had on the room before. Draco didn't like to admit it, but he missed Severus Snape and felt oddly remorseful at the thought of his brutal death. It was an uncomfortable, unfamiliar feeling.

"Now," Professor Slughorn said cheerily, behind his magically hovering fan, which followed behind his uneven pacing, flapping tiredly, "you all should have ample material from which to study—everything I have mentioned during the last lecture _will_ be on your midterm." The class groaned or let out defeated sighs collectively and Draco closed his eyes briefly, vainly attempting to remind himself why he had returned to Hogwarts for a second Seventh year. Slughorn seemed not to notice and broke into one of his old school day stories. Putting down his quill gratefully, Draco let his eyes wander. Hermione Granger, one of the only other seventh year students who had decided to return to Hogwarts after the war, was still scribbling away at her notes, adding a page full of cramped, tidy writing to the already humorously large stack in front of her. By the end of the hour, Draco was sure you would no longer be able to see her face—maybe just the large fluff of hair that stuck out all over her head.

As if sensing his gaze, Hermione slowed a little with her writing. After a moment she set down her quill and Draco looked quickly away, afraid she might glance up and think he was staring at her— which he wasn't. The sun was glaring full force through the small, slanted windows near the ceiling, brutally baking the occupants of the room. Running his hands through his white-blonde hair, Draco loosened his collar and chanced another look at Hermione, smirking a little at what he saw. She, with a steady gaze at the front of the classroom, was slowly prying her feet from her school shoes and then grabbing at the thick socks with her toes until her feet were completely bare. The stone floor must have been lovely cool as she pressed her skin against it. Of course, Hermione knew that cooling ones feet had the overall effect of cooling the entire body. She thought she was clever of course. Draco sneered, rolling his eyes back to the front of the classroom. Slughorn was still rambling about unimportant gibberish.

It wasn't that he was interested in looking her way, but that _anything_ was more interesting than Slughorn's recounting for the fifth time the event where he "accidently" slipped his professor an modified form of love potion that, "essentially made one the 'teacher's pet' so to speak." Granger had now tied her hair back, exposing her neck and the soft curve of her face. Every now and then, she moved her feet to a cooler spot once her body heat at warmed a certain portion of the stone. Why he hadn't thought of this solution, he wasn't sure. Too busy taking quality notes, he supposed. _He_ didn't let the heat distract him. Despite himself, he wondered how she thought she was going to get her shoes back on unnoticed. With the amount of pride that girl had, he knew she'd be mortified to be dressed out of complete school uniform.

Without really thinking, Draco leaned back in his chair, yawning a bit to cover up the sound of his wand sliding out of his pocket. In a moment it was down by his side. Silent spells had always been his strong suit and so in a moment, Hermione's shoes drifted, socks in tow, toward his seat. Granger, who had picked up her quill again, didn't notice. They landed with a soft thud beside him and, with another flick, were invisible.

Slughorn's voice made him jump, pressing the ghost of smile from his face. "Mr. Malfoy? Any suggestions?"

With easy confidence, Draco put on his best studious face, "It seems you have the concoction exactly. Any additional ingredient may spoil it." Slughorn beamed and Draco breathed with relief that the answer had been sufficient.

"Many students may have suggested the addition of a mint leaf, but this often gives the potion the effect of causing its drinker extreme hair loss… because?"

Hermione's hand was in the air faster than the question was asked, "Because extract of mint leaf in combination with powdered unicorn horn is a naturally strong induction of alopecia. I suggest that an overnight brew and pine needles enhanced by the astringency charm may enhance the potion, however. This provides the same sort of mint flavoring, while avoiding any side effects."

"Interesting theory, Miss Granger! I must look into that," Slughorn smiled and Hermione looked about ready to explode with smugness. Draco gave her shoes a smart little shove with his. In the corner, a sad looking clock gave a mournful toll, making Slughorn jump with surprise. "Is that the time already? Well! We must assign class partners. Everyone to the front please so I can properly pair you up."

Draco strode to the front of class, barely containing his grin. He didn't even have to look back to tell that Hermione was frantically searching for her shoes, nearly laughing aloud when he heard her desk screech back when she pushed it back in panic. Nearly everyone had lined up already and Draco took to examining his fingernails at the far end of the row of students.

"Miss Granger? Did you lose something?" Slughorn asked.

"Um," Hermione bit her lip and then straightened up. "Only my quill. I, uh, I found it," she said, picking up her quill lamely from her stack of notes.

"Please do join us up here," Slughorn prompted and Draco sneaked a glance while she trudged shoeless to the Gryffindor side of the lineup, doing her best to cover her bare toes with the hem of her robes. Very few people noticed, but Draco was absolutely satisfied with the shade of red her cheeks had turned.

"Now, as this _is_ an honor's class, I wanted your first project to be both invigorating and challenging. Your grade depends entirely upon the level of difficultly you intend to take on _and_ how well you then pull it off. Choose any one potion in the textbook and write a detailed proposal for how you and your teammate will concoct it. There will be two participants per team— so as to ensure fairness, I will be assigning partners according to your current grades and level of aptitude for potions in general. Once your name is called, you are dismissed." Flicking his wand, Slughorn conjured up a long, scrolling list in front of him, reading off names and sending off the students one after another. Draco hadn't truly realized the danger until three fourths of the class was dismissed. Surely, he knew, Granger would be the top of the class. No one else in the school really had a knack for potions—nor did they really try very hard with absence of the fear Professor Snape had once instilled in them. In fact, the second best student in the class could very well be—

"Miss Granger, you will be paired with Mr. Malfoy," Slughorn read smoothly, moving on to the Weasley girl's partner.

"Sir, I'm sorry—excuse me," Hermione protested. "I promised Neville I would help him out—I mean, that I would team up with him, as we're both Gryffindors and both have a… passion for potions."

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger," Slughorn frowned. "No matter your equal- uh- fondness for potions, only _one_ of you has the aptitude, I'm afraid. You will partner with Mr. Malfoy, as your grades are nearly identical so far this term." With that, he turned away to a rather long-faced Neville and continued to assign partners.

Biting back a harsh laugh at the shocked looked on Granger's face while she mouthed the words, 'nearly identical,' Malfoy went to stand beside her, no more thrilled with the new partnership. They moved together toward their desks, wordless as they gathered their things. Draco shot a silent spell toward the shoes, so that they landed neatly atop his pile of books.

Walking out in the hall, Hermione stopped to glare at him, turning on her bare heel. "Let's just try to be civil, alright? It's obvious we both care about our grades so let's just try to be successful as we can in this. If you like, I'll write the proposal."

"Slow down there, Granger. I actually have some school pride—don't you think it's better that _I_ write the proposal?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" she snapped, irritated.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice that your uniform isn't quite complete today. What? Did you have a run in with those bloody nargles again? In any case it hardly shows respect to Hogwarts, does it?" He clucked his tongue, arching a disapproving eyebrowg. "I mean… five points from Gryffindor."

"Shut up, Malfoy," she hissed. "I had my shoes on this morning, but one of my friends must be having a little fun…. You know what? I don't need to talk to you about this. The _only_ thing we will be discussing is our project proposal. I'll meet you in the library, as our common rooms aren't exactly ideal in this situation. What time is good for you?"

"I'm free after dinner," Draco said smoothly. "Do try to be fully clothed at that point, if you would. It's embarrassing."

Closing her eyes tiredly, Hermione managed a slow head nod. "The library at seven sharp. Don't be late." With that, she turned smartly and marched off toward her next class. With a casual flick of his wand, Draco slipped Hermione's shoes, now visible, into her retreating rucksack, a smirk settling lightly on his lips as he watched her go.

 _Author's Note:_

 _Hello Readers! I do not usually leave notes, but I am setting up this fic slightly differently than others I have posted and need your opinion. I am in the process of writing two stories currently- both a Hermione/Draco fic (this one) and a Hermione/Ron fic. Please let me know what you think of this story so far and, if you have time, check out my Ron/Hermione fic titled "Seven Reasons" as well. Let me know in the comments which one you are more interested by and I'll make it my priority to update that story. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this :)_


	2. Chapter 2

The Study of Attraction

Only Hermione Granger could have thought so many books necessary. The entire library table was crowded with leather-bound textbooks, both thick and thicker, stacked and balanced on each other, creating something of a small mountain around Hermione's chair. She was nose-deep in a textbook with a long, difficult-looking Latin name. The material, however, didn't seem to fully grasp her attention as she continually glanced up to glare at the empty chair in across from her. She knew he'd be late. She had completely bypassed dinner just to set up and gather the proper materials.

A few moments later, Draco Malfoy dropped into the seat across from her, watching her with an extremely sarcastic expression while taking in the mound of books. Without a word, he bit into the green apple in his hand, simply shaking his head.

"You're late," Hermione hissed.

Rolling his eyes, Draco held out his wrist to show a gleaming, silver watch. "Seven on the dot. Library clock is fast."

Feeling disgruntled, Hermione glared deeper. "There's no eating in the library."

"Fine," he said, tossing the core of his apple behind him and making a perfect shot into the wastebasket. "I'm sure you already have ideas. So—go ahead. Talk." He moved his hands in a shooing motion, leaning back and crossing his the ankle of one leg over the knee of the other.

Looking further annoyed, Hermione chewed her lips for a moment, but couldn't resist the invitation. "I think our best bet is Drought of Living Death. It's extremely difficult to make, but shouldn't take up too much of our time. Of course then, there's Polyjuice potion, arguably one of the most difficult in our text, but literally takes months to make. I think Felix Felicis is off limits to students—especially since you play _Quidditch_ , "she spat the word with annoyance, "and everything else in the book is either too dangerous or too simple. We really want to _impress_ Slughorn—it's the only garneted shot at a perfect score."

"What's wrong with Quidditch?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, taken aback.

"You said, I play 'Quidditch' like it was a bad thing. What's wrong with playing Quidditch? Didn't your Hungarian boyfriend play it? Not to mention weasel and Potter," Draco said grumpily.

"I enjoy watching my _friends_ play Quidditch every now and then, yes. That doesn't mean I especially commend _you_ for playing—especially when it dampens our chances for possibly getting special permission to brew liquid luck."

"But you think it's impressive."

"What?"

"Quidditch. You think people who play Quidditch are impressive." It wasn't a question.

"I think those who have real _talent_ on the Quidditch pitch must work hard to achieve it. But this is not important as it neither applies to our project nor to _you,_ " Hermione answered him icily. "Now, which potion do _you_ want to work on?"

"Love potion."

Hermione's scowl left her face in surprise. "Are you serious?"

He set both feet on the ground, leaning his elbows on the table. "Why not? It's definitely difficult and takes several weeks to brew. Not to mention, some of its ingredients would be almost impossible to get our hands on, if it weren't for my connections, so we know no one else will be attempting it. And besides, Slughorn is all about flattery. We know very well that he favors it—half of his stories have to do with his experience with it. Besides, when brewed correctly, anyone near it is pleased by the scent. Can't go wrong with having him in a good smelling mood while he grades our project."

"A good _smelling_ mood?" Hermione said doubtfully.

"You know what I mean. But it's fine, Granger, if you want to make a mediocre potion and earn a mediocre grade, then knock yourself out." He started to get up, but Hermione stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

"No, it's a good idea. I'm sorry," she admitted. "I'm just not used to agreeing with you. It's a good idea."

"Thank you I guess," he said, still put out, but sitting back down.

Pushing her hair back behind her ears, Hermione leaned uncomfortably over her book, flipping through it to find the entry for Love Potion. "You're right—the ingredients are extremely difficult. Can you really get all of this?"

"Yes. We should be able to brew Amortenia, actually. I think it would also be expedient to brew its antidote."

"That might even earn us extra credit," Hermione exclaimed, unable to mask her enthusiasm. "If you can collect the ingredients, then shall I write up the report?"

"Alright—just let me read over it before you hand it in, alright? I'll want to proofread it first."

"Please," Hermione said, smugly, "I'm top of the class. I think I'll be fine."

"Hey, he said our marks were 'nearly identical.' He never said which of us had the higher grade," Draco countered, getting up from his seat.

Hermione sat stunned for a moment, watching him as he strode up to Madam Pince's desk, leaning on one arm to speak to her. She looked disgruntled by the steady eye contact Malfoy offered her, her arms crossed as tightly as Hermione's. She was shaking her head, looking on the verge of breaking into one of her lengthy speeches when Draco fished a piece of parchment from her pocket and handed it to her. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she read it and Hermione craned forward in her seat to try to see it. Draco caught her eye and gave her a bored look, fiddling with the end of his silver and green tie. He tried to play off the look as uninterested, but the smugness showed through when Madam Pince handed him the slip of paper back and turned lead him toward the library shelves.

Hermione got up as they passed, running to catch up with them and catching Draco by the sleeve. Annoyed, he brushed off her hand, and continued batting at the white sleeve as if her touch had soiled it.

"What are you doing?" Hermione questioned him in a harsh whisper. "All the potion books are already at our table—didn't you see?"

"Who could miss them? With that number of volumes on potions you'll look like you're after Slughorn's job," he drawled. "It's ridiculous to go flipping through hundreds of books in order to put together a three page report, Granger. It's better to go straight to the source."

"I have every book that could possibly be a _source_ for—"

"Not every book," Draco answered, just as Madam Pince opened the door to the restricted section. Arching an eyebrow, he followed the librarian into the rows of dark shelves. "You coming, Granger?"

Madam Pince had to use a rather old, large black key to open a case in the very back cover. The large book, bound in dark leather that she handed to Draco, was covered in a thin layer of dust, its title barely legible beneath the grime. _Love Potion: A History of the Power of Obsession_ it read. Taking a shallow breath, Draco blew on the cover, sending the dust swirling in Hermione's direction. They walked back to their table, Draco nodding a thank you to Madam Pince.

"How could you _possibly_ been allowed to check this out? It's a first addition—the only one available, as far as I know," Hermione demanded, unable to keep the excitement from her voice as she made to reach for the book.

"I have my ways," Draco answered cryptically, moving the textbook just out of her reach. "And, as you said, it is a very precious commodity. So I will not be the reason behind it being soiled by Mudblood hands." Hermione drew back, unable to contain the flinch the word always instilled in her. Continuing without a beat, Draco got up, tucking the book under his arm. "We should study tomorrow afternoon. Meet me on the seventh floor after lunch. You can put away the rest of these," he gestured to the tacks of books that consumed the table. "This is all we'll need." With that, he turned from the library, leaving Hermione to tidy the mountain of textbooks.


End file.
